These Violent Delights have Violent Ends
by j.Paynter
Summary: In the bleak life in District Twelve Katniss Everdeen has found a friend in Peeta Mellark. They saved each other's lives. He is her pillar of strength as she struggles to keep her family alive. Now she is a competitor in the Hunger Games, she must kill or be killed…and Peeta is another competitor.
1. In man as well as herbs—grace and rude w

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games trilogy. The characters and plot belong to Suzanne Collins. In fact, reading the book would actually make this story make more sense as I was not going to replicate everything that happened within those books. _

_Also warning that domestic abuse and suicide feature heavily within this story. Both of which are serious issues and shouldn't be taken lightly. _

_I was going down a more Shakespearean route that Ms Collins and the quotes in each chapter title are the Bard's. _

_In man as well as herbs—grace and rude will_

The wind woke Katniss. She blinked awake to darkness and the light rattling of the thin walls from the gusts. Lightening showed a flash of the small room in liquid silver then thunder rumbled. No rain sounded on the roof, a dry storm.

She rolled over in their small bed but Prim was sleeping soundly. Something else had awoken her, brought on the wind. It unsettled her and although it was too early to hunt, she rose and quietly dressed.

Outside the sound of the storm was overpowering and the wind tugged at her hair. As she crossed the Meadow a flash of lightening showed something there; someone huddled amongst the tall grass sobbing quietly. It was so unexpected, so unusual that she crept closer. Another sliver of lightening showed her Peeta Mellark, curled in the grass. He had a knife in his hand.

She moved instinctively. Crouching in front of him she clasped the hand holding the knife. Peeta stiffened and glanced up at her. Katniss gasped. Even in the half light of the storm she could see that he had been beaten, badly. The left side of his face was swollen, his lip was cut and his nose was at an odd angle.

"Peeta, what happened?" she whispered.

Peeta sniffed and glanced away. The fingers on his left hand were misshapen and ungainly. Katniss tentatively touched his wrist above his swollen fingers. Peeta flinched.

"Peeta…" she began softly. He abruptly tilted forward, resting his right cheek against her shoulder. Her arms came around him awkwardly, his entire body was trembling. She didn't know what to do. She was never the one Prim sought for comfort. But this was Peeta. He was her boy with the bread.

She tucked the knife into her belt and gently prised Peeta from the ground. He was quietly compliant, his eyes blank. She took his right hand and led him to the fence. He followed her numbly under the wire and through the trees. The sound of the storm lessened when they entered the forest and Katniss kept a wary eye out for other things that might be sheltering from the storm.

When they reached the lake she left him with his hand submerged in water to find a herb she had seen her mother use. Peeta's quiet was worrisome. She wasn't a healer and already she was regretting not taking him to her mother. When she returned he was sitting in the same place, unaware of his surroundings.

She settled beside him to wash the herbs, brushing his shoulder with hers. Peeta took one deep, shuddering breath.

"She closed the oven on them," he said roughly. "I wasn't fast enough."

Katniss was left struggling with what to say. Instead she busied herself with grinding the herbs, cutting strips from her shirt and then binding his hand and cleaning the cuts on his face.

Afterwards they sat together watching the sun rise over the lake.

"Thank you, Katniss."


	2. Both alike in dignity

_Both alike in dignity_

Today was her last Reaping Day. She rose early to hunt with a bounce in her step even though the event meant more Peacekeepers sniffing around. Peeta would be busy all morning in the bakery, if there hadn't been any incidents last night, but there'd be time after the Reaping to skive away for a few hours to meet up.

That night in the Meadow, so long ago, had started something. Katniss was hesitant to name it because it had grown into something so intimate, so convoluted. They had seen the worst in each other, in their world and they had survived, together. He had saved her life with the bread. She had saved his life in the Meadow. They never talked about it directly, not even when she found him a few weeks later nursing burns on his arms at the lake. She simply stole some of her mother's cream and gave it to him.

He wasn't Gale. He couldn't hunt even though she tried to teach him. He was other things; he was her silent companion in the woods when Gale was busy, he was the un-tangler of her knotted snares, he was her butcher when she hunted and baulked at the blood and guts of her catches. He told her stories; some she was sure he made up, of adventure, love and mostly of freedom. He was her secret friend, one she trusted completely. She didn't think anyone would understand – all they would see would be the Town boy and the Seam girl.

No one would know why she beamed with pride whenever she made him truly smile (and it was a gift, Peeta's smile, his _real _smile). He would draw patterns and landscapes with mud on the rocks around the lake and laugh at her hunting escapades or tales of Prim's goat. No one would understand why it was a triumph when he smuggled her one of his elaborately hand-decorated cakes for Prim's birthday, let alone share in that triumph of defying his mother.

Peeta's worries always seemed more real to her than Gale's. Gale spoke of rebellion against the Capitol. He spoke of fighting and the districts rising together. Peeta sought freedom from his family. It was something she could relate to even as she was tempted with the fire in Gale's passion. But Peeta's was the reality. One night, she was attempting to stitch a gash in Peeta's arm and had been telling him Gale's views on the Capitol to keep her mind off the blood and Peeta's flinches. He smiled grimly at her.

"They'll never do it," he had said. "They see it, they know it's wrong. But they just look the other way." She had finished stitching his wound in silence, the proof of his statement in her very hands.

Still, it was tempting when Gale talked of leaving District Twelve before the Reaping. She would be free not to worry about Prim. But it was just a dream, as she reminded Gale that day.

They crossed the fence back into reality and headed to the bakery. Knocking on the door she wasn't surprised to see Peeta.

"Katniss," he said brightly. Gale shifted uneasily at her side. "The second time this week, what is it about us that has you coming back for more?" She suspected that Peeta went out of his way to flirt with her in front of Gale just to provoke him.

"Your father's bread," she replied dryly and resisted throwing the pheasants at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh Katniss, they'll do nicely for the Shepherds pie," Mr Mellark said appearing behind his son and preventing the throwing of wildfowl. He handed over a bundle of deliciously smelling bread as Peeta took the pheasants grinning mischievously.

They'd turned to leave when she heard him call out. "It was lovely to see you again Katniss."

Gale frowned, "I don't like him."

"He's just being friendly," she said.

"He's always watching you, he's a town boy, Katniss, they don't think like we do."

Katniss frowned. Gale and Peeta were both her friends and she didn't want anything to change that.

Later that day at the Reaping she found herself darting nervous glances between Prim, Gale and Peeta. Gale looked tense, as always, but Peeta was relaxed, even bored.

Effie teetered on her heels on the stage and fluffed about. She seemed so surreal in her outrageous outfit until she opened her mouth and announced, "Primrose Everdeen."

Her heart stopped. There was ringing in her ears, the world around her swayed and dipped. Prim was the only thing in focus; tiny, fragile Prim.

"I volunteer," someone whispered, then she realised it was herself. "I volunteer," she screamed clawing past people to reach her sister. "I volunteer as tribute." People were crowding in around her, shouting, Prim was crying but she managed to touch her before the Peacekeepers were marching her to the podium. She looked back and saw Gale haul Prim off her feet to restrain her.

As she stood there looking over the people of District Twelve she couldn't stop trembling. There were so many sad faces, Gale's terrified eyes, her mother's horrified expression as if she was already dead. Peeta's eyes were blue, his face was ashen but he was smiling grimly at her. It was the same smile he gave her when she had to stitch up a particularly bloody wound and he knew all she wanted to do was vomit. She latched on to that and stared unwaveringly at his face, until…

"Peeta Mellark," Effie announced cheerily.

"No," she whispered, more horrified then before. This couldn't be real. But Peeta was edging his way through the crowds, walking towards her and standing beside her. He reached for her hand before Effie even asked for it clasping it warmly and comfortingly. She grasped it as a lifeline, sharing his strength and his terror.

How could she do this? How could she kill Peeta? She had promised Prim that she would win and return to her, but that was in essence killing Peeta.


	3. Which alters when alteration finds

_Which alters when alteration finds..._

She locked herself in a bedroom on the train and avoided everyone. By the second day her growling stomach finally drove her in search of food. As she entered a corridor to the dining car she heard Peeta's familiar voice.

"…shelter or water?"

"Shut up kid," replied a gravelly voice. "Just enjoy this while you can."

"That's your advice?" Peeta replied and his voice had turned cold. A hurumph was all the reply he got.

"That's great Haymitch, thanks, have you already dug our graves or would you like me to come back later?" Katniss winced at that and opened the door.

"You want my advice kid?" Haymitch was waving a glass of something pungent but he looked livid. "Stay alive."

Peeta's eyes narrowed further and Katniss felt her own temper flaring in kind. She found herself stepping forward, slipping the table knife from its place and stabbing it into the wood by Haymitch's hand.

"You're our mentor Haymitch," Peeta said quietly into the silence that followed. "You're the only chance we've got. Do you want to be remembered as the mentor who had no victors, or do you want this to be the 24th time lucky and actually try to take one of us back home?"

As always Katniss was impressed with Peeta's acting. His ability to manipulate people had continually amazed her. Mrs Storick had been none-the-wiser of his home life and remained under the impression that Peeta was a thoroughly clumsy but surprisingly active wrestler with two older brothers who often got carried away.

Haymitch set his drink down and prised the knife from the table. He flipped it casually then with a sudden movement sent it spinning into the wall by Peeta's head. Nobody flinched. Peeta held Haymitch's gaze steadily.

Haymitch smiled grimly. "Well, it looks like this year they've given me some fighters."

Later that day Katniss stumbled across Peeta curled up in the back of the train watching the districts zoom by. The door shut behind her with a whoosh before she could duck back out and Peeta turned towards her at the sound.

"You don't have to go," he said kindly. "You never have to fear me, you know that." He looked away from her and out the window, already resigned to his fate.

It angered her to see him so submissive. "Peeta," she said on impulse. "You can't give up."

"There's only one winner, Katniss," he replied. "Only one. I would…so very want…that winner to be you. You could do it Katniss, you could win."

"But Peeta, what about you…?" She knew it was stupid to ask, she knew the obvious answer.

He smiled grimly. "The odds were never in my favour, Katniss. I was lucky to live as long as I did, and mostly that was because of you." Katniss cringed at his bluntness. "I'm just glad I'm in this with you," he said turning to look at her earnestly. "I can at least do something to help. You can go home, Katniss."

"Peeta," she hissed stepping up to him. "You have to try."

"You have Prim and your mother…and Gale to go home to Katniss." He caught her eye. "Let me help you, let me get you home."

This boy was her best friend. He had given her hope and now he was offering it to her again. "Okay," she said finally. "We will get through this together, but you must try."

He grinned at her. "I will try for as long as it is possible."

"It's a promise," she said, binding his word with hers.


	4. From this day to the ending of the world

_From this day to the ending of the world..._

The Capitol was another world. The impossible outfits, the outlandish hairdos and the body disfigurations were beyond Katniss's understanding. They seemed too loud and too colourful to be human.

She reluctantly parted from Peeta to join her stylists. They gossiped as they prodded, plucked and groomed her and she doubted their sanity. Why bother? She thought. Why all this bother when they're just sending us off to die?

When they finished and left her alone she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't see the girl from the Seam anymore. They had scrubbed her away, even her scars. Not even a day in the Capitol and that girl from District Twelve was gone. Would Peeta still recognise her?

Cinna was a pleasant surprise. He was soothing, kind and real in a way that no one in the Capitol had been so far. It also helped that her outfit wasn't see-through, although she was slightly worried about how far his theme of burning coal would go.

Peeta was already waiting in the loading bay, looking daring in coal black but unreal in the gloss of the Capitol. He also looked remarkably calm. He was trading goofy looks with the small competitor from District Eleven. When she edged up beside him he gave her a smirk, clearly taking in her own outfit. She rolled her eyes at him.

"So, we're all set," Cinna said encouragingly. He seemed nervous and excited at putting his creation to the test. "It's perfectly safe," he reassured, helping them into the chariot.

"So he says," Peeta muttered to her. "He's not the one going up in flames."

"I don't think he wants to be known as the stylist who killed his tributes before the Games either, Peeta." She replied.

"His reputation," Peeta rolled his eyes as he said it and the chariot started moving. "That's what you're basing our lives on."

"Aren't you glad you're here with me," she returned with a quick smirk as they finally entered the arena.

The noise from the crowd hammered her and she gripped the rails of the chariot tightly. Turning to see how Peeta was fairing, she frowned. He was looking down at her hands with a thoughtful crease between his brows. Finally he looked up, his gaze taking in the tributes before him each individually pandering to the crowd and finally at the salivating crowd around them.

As she was watching him she saw the flames gather and rush up his outfit, fanning out behind them and felt them doing the same on hers. The crowd's noise increased further and she tried to wave, unlocking one hand from the rail to do so. Peeta's hand stopped her, fingers entwining with hers. She couldn't place his expression – one part asking for forgiveness, the other part defiance?

He raised their joined hands above their heads and the crowd went wild.

She tried to question him in the elevator to their floor but Effie talked constantly and Haymitch was eyeing them oddly. On their floor the two adults both hovered like concerned parents and Peeta was avoiding meeting her eyes so she gave it up and went to bed. The next few days of training followed a similar pattern. Effie talked encouragingly and Haymitch seemed to be giving sobriety a go, more or less.

At training she didn't feel like she could press Peeta either. The other tributes watched them constantly. Peeta made light comments and stayed by her side at the stations but they never spoke about anything meaningful. She followed his lead and tried to get a handle on the other tributes. Treat them like prey, she told herself. This didn't help with the little girl from Eleven flittered about, stealing the Career's knives and hanging upside down from the ceiling. She looked too much like Prim and she knew Peeta saw it too, he always had a smile or a kind word for the little girl.

The Careers were another matter. Cato had effectively slashed the life from a dummy with a sword and Marvel had skewered another with a hefty throw of a spear. Their female counterparts were just as lethal. She was watching them sizing her and Peeta up as Peeta tied her hands in knots at the snare setting station.

"Stop it," he reprimanded her as he finished a slip knot over her thumb. She turned to look at the complicated pattern he had created and untwisted her hands, pulling at the correct strand so that the snare fell apart.

"Stop what?"

"You're not the deer," he said quietly so the supervisor at the station couldn't overhear.

The girl from Two was at the knife throwing station. She caught Katniss's eye as she threw her last few knives, hitting a bullseye both times. Katniss stiffened at the clear challenge, but Peeta stepped forward with a slow clap.

"You must be good with onions," he said admiringly. Glimmer looked baffled for a second at his response before getting the wind up her.

"You're supposed to be keeping me safe," Katniss said to him. "Not riling up the competition."

He walked her away from Glimmer's glowering expression towards the gym equipment. "Couldn't help it," he said. "I mean, what practical uses can she possibly have for that skill?"

"Everyone knows the Careers train for this, Peeta. That's not going to change anything," she said exasperated at his naivety. He grinned at her.

"Hey, on the bright side, when they come for me, they won't be looking for you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll just leave you to it, shall? You can swap recipes with Glimmer and I'll take a leisurely stroll through the woods."

Peeta laughed, an honest laugh it echoed off the cavernous training room. Every head in the place turned to stare at him. It was not a sound ever before heard there.


	5. We in it shall be remembered

_We in it shall be remembered_

She twisted her hands, nervously wiping the sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress. Cinna had calmed her down for the interview but actually being out there in front of everyone was frightening. Cinna had made her look like a pretty girl who would keep her promise to her little sister. It was heartening that the crowd seemed receptive to her.

Now she watched intently from the wings as Peeta took the stage as the last tribute. He was charming – it was an odd strategy to take. No one ever won the Games for being charming. Cato was capable. Thresh was stoic. Glimmer was sexy and she had come off as earnest and determined. Peeta was funny and lightness; everything that he usually was for her, but not qualities for a winning tribute. Nevertheless he had the audience eating out of his hand, laughing with his jokes.

"Peeta, you are delightful," Flickman chortled. "I'm sure all the girls must be crazy about you back home."

"Well…" Peeta said with a shy grin which invited them to ask. It was an odd grin, it rang untrue to Katniss and she questioned who was interviewing who out there.

"Aha," Flickman exclaimed. "Who is she?"

"It's not really," Peeta said squirming. "It's not quite like that. I've been in love with her forever but she's my best friend and, well, she just sees me as that." The crowd groaned, they could relate to being stuck in the friend-zone.

"Ah, well here's what you can do," Flickman said grandly. "You win the Games and she won't be able to so no to you." The crowd cheered at this solution. Peeta just smiled sadly and Katniss had a sudden swooping feeling that he was about to do something reckless.

"Yeah, that's not really going to help me," he said calmly looking around at the crowd.

"Oh?" Flickman said, and Katniss could hear a tone of uncertainty in his question – like the interview wasn't going the way he expected it to. "Why is that?"

"Because," Peeta said turning slightly so he was looking at her. "She came with me."

There was absolute silence then the audience moaned in horror. One woman even clapped her hands to her face.

Katniss just stared at him in disbelief. Was he playing to the crowd or was he telling the truth? The emotion he had drawn from the crowd was astounding and she could see that Flickman looked blank as to what to do. Peeta was giving her a calculated look and she realised that hundreds of eyes were now on her.

Feeling blindsided and pressured all at once she raised her hand to her mouth to hide her emotion. Peeta, finally dismissed from his interview, walked calmly towards her. She realised that she was shaking – was this real? Was any of this real?

Suddenly Peeta was in front of her and she couldn't resist socking him in the arm. He took it calmly with a raise of his eyebrows – the irritable boy. He caught her hands in his and leaned down towards her. For a shocking moment she thought he was going to kiss her and, even more shockingly she might have let him. But he stopped when he had caught her eye.

"We're in this together, for as long as possible, remember."

That night after Haymitch and Effie had finally stopped hovering and talking strategy she escaped to the roof. She wasn't surprised to see Peeta, sat on the ledge with his arms around his knees looking down at the celebrations taking place below.

"It's disgusting," she said quietly, sitting beside him and distinctly not talking about his interview. She'd see if he brought it up first.

Peeta hummed. "They're as much captives as we are," he replied.

She snorted in disbelief. "They're his puppets even more than us, because they don't know that they are. We know what we are, that gives us power," he said turning his eyes towards her.

"Is that why you did it?" He raised his eyebrows in question. "That thing with our hands, at the opening ceremony?"

Peeta sighed and slid his legs so they hung over the bench. "I'm sick of other people running my life. The Capitol doesn't just make us compete in the Games, Katniss. We let ourselves. We play by their rules. They need to be reminded that we make our own decisions. I'm just showing them that we won't play by their rules… I'm sorry if that makes us a target. I wasn't really thinking. It just made me so mad – seeing the other tributes, giving them exactly what they want. I'm not going to change for them Katniss, I want to still be me when this is over."

They lapsed into silence but it was filled with so many things unsaid, she couldn't stand it. There were too many layers, too much tension and too many lies.

"Peeta, what you said in the interview, was it an act?" They were both stiff, awkward in the gloom.

"Katniss," his breath whispered over her cheeks. "I want to show them that I won't change for them. If I'm going in this to die…"

"Peeta…"

"…if I'm going in this to die, then I wanted you to know. I don't expect anything from you," he added hurriedly. "I just wanted you to know, cause you saved my life, Katniss. More than once, more than you know and…" he paused looking down at the celebrations. "I wanted them to see." He turned to look at her, catching her eyes, suddenly more confident in himself. "I wanted them to see what they were asking."

"This is the 74th Hunger Games, Peeta, they know."

He grinned savagely at her. "The crowd is always baying for our blood, but for the first time, tonight, they were horrified that they were."

Katniss paused and thought about it. The audience had seemed shocked. There had been groans of horror. There had been genuine sympathy that the two tributes couldn't be together.

"Peeta," she whispered in amazement. "What are you doing?"

He nudged her knee with his own. "I'm getting you home, Katniss. I'm getting you home."


	6. Suffer the slings and arrows

_Suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune_

The entrance to the Arena was anticlimactic. It was a meadow, wreathed in colourful flowers, a lake just in view and a not so distant tree line of a thick forest. Birds were even singing which she heard over her laboured breathing. The Cornucopia had temptingly spread its riches and she glimpsed a bow. Looking about she caught sight of Peeta standing on his pedestal across the field, watching her.

She was still looking at him when the cannon blasted and jolted her from her marker. It lost her precious seconds and she switched her target from the bow to a closer backpack. She had just reached it when something silver flashed past her face. She jerked her head back but wasn't fast enough to miss the second knife that slashed her forehead.

Clove was advancing on her, several knives raised when she was tackled from the side. Peeta had slammed into her, knocking them both over. Now he jumped quickly to his feet, caught a hold of Katniss' jacket and they were both running towards the safety of the forest.

They didn't stop until they were well within the trees, breathing heavily with adrenaline and fear.

"Was it worth it?" Peeta asked quietly. He was bent over, hands on knees trying to catch his breath.

Katniss opened the backpack and sorted through its contents: rope; sleeping bag; wire; and a water flask – empty.

"Useful," Peeta commented drily when she upended it to confirm that it was empty.

"We need to find water," she said. Peeta nodded, handed her a knife he had taken from Clove and let her take the lead through the forest.

It was so surreal because it could almost be a normal day in District Twelve. They headed downhill and eventually she heard running water. The river wasn't very wide but the water was running and looked clean.

"We shouldn't stay here," she said, filling the flask. "The others will likely follow the water."

"Wait a moment," Peeta whispered. He had dug his fingers into the riverbank and made a soup of the mud there. He raised two muddy fingers and coated the orange of her coat with it.

"Peeta," she whispered when he brushed muddy fingers across her cheekbones.

"Don't smile," he said quietly. She could see why, in his dirty face his white teeth glowed brilliantly.

"Because I'm going to be smiling a lot here, am I?" she queried drily. Peeta's response was a sharp glint of white teeth in the darkness.

They made their way further into the woods until Katniss thought she'd found a likely place for wildlife. They hadn't seen or heard anyone close by. Peeta crouched by the bushes and tied the snare as she peered into the gloom around them. When he'd risen she continued to lead him in silence, looking for a place to sleep. Finally she spotted a promising tree and with an indication of her eyebrows showed Peeta.

He cupped his hands and boosted her up the trunk, following more carefully behind her. By the time he reached the wider branch she had picked, she had spread the sleeping bag out and had snuggled in. He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes as he squeezed in beside her. The sleeping bag was only meant for one and Peeta awkwardly slid in between her legs, gingerly trying to distance himself from the forced intimacy. She ignored it when hands were placed where they shouldn't have been and refrained from pinching him when he realised he had been clasping her bottom and released her with a frantic spasm. Smothering a smile she reached around him, her face close to his as she tied them together and to the tree.

As she settled gingerly against him a boom of a canon froze them. The air was rent with the Panem anthem and then a slideshow of the tributes who had died that day paraded across the sky.

"I'm glad you're here," Peeta whispered to her silhouette in the gloom and silence following the slideshow.

Katniss glanced at him but he was staring into the darkness of the canopy and the now clear night sky. Impulsively she leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his mud stained cheek then laid her head on his chest hearing the comforting thud of his heart.

They passed the next two days heading further and further into the woods. They managed to catch several little ground-dwelling birds, which Peeta plucked and cooked while Katniss stood watch. They spoke little but the routine had familiarity so that it almost tasted of domesticity to Katniss. At night they huddled together and watched the dead parade across the sky. Last night, there had been none and the next day they were both jumpy, wondering what the Gamemakers had planned.

Peeta paused to sit on the edge of a rocky outcrop they were climbing, breathing heavily. He was not as fit as she was. She dropped beside him and admired the view. The Arena was quite beautiful.

"We must be the most boring tributes ever," Peeta said dryly taking a swig of water and passing it to Katniss.

"I don't know," Katniss said crunching her forehead in thought. "There was that one year when that mousy girl from District Ten hid in the cave for ten days straight."

"I'd forgotten about that one," Peeta commented offhandedly.

Katniss stretched her boots, pointing her toes to stretch her back. "At least we're giving a good advert for healthy hiking."

"Stay tuned for eight o'clock tonight, Katniss Everdeen shows never-before-seen attempts to climb a mountain," Peeta's imitation of Senaca Crane was almost spot on. She threw a lazy punch at him which he rolled off his shoulder. "But that's not all folks, we've got an exclusive interview with Miss Everdeen. Tell me Katniss, how can our viewers use these moves in their districts?"

"Well Mellark, they might come in useful if someone were to, say, find themselves unexpectedly dropped off a cliff," she said sarcastically leaning across to pinch him.

Suddenly she froze, Peeta had caught her hands and his eyes were very large because the ground had started moving.

Something hot and fierce flew past Peeta and exploded in a fiery mass against a nearby tree. They were up and running before she could think. Smoke was rapidly billowing around her making it difficult to breath and stinging her eyes. The heat was almost unbearable. An exploding tree sent her stumbling and she was tiring quickly. Peeta roughly grabbed her shoulders and propelled her forward until abruptly she wasn't running but flying and, at last, diving into clear, blessedly cold water.

The firestorm ceased suddenly, clearly a ploy of the Gamemakers to spark a confrontation. She surfaced coughing up smoke and water to suck in lungfuls of clear air and hearing Peeta do the same. She turned to look at him, his face red and shiny with burns, his blonde hair slickened back against his head.

"I take it back," he gasped. "This is definitely must see programming."

She sent a small wave towards him and rolled her eyes. She opened her mouth to comment on their next move when the sound of voices reached her. Peeta snapped around towards them and quickly began backstroking towards the other bank. She followed and reached the bank as the Careers appeared on the other side.

She heard their shouts of jubilation and heard the snick of an arrow as it left the bow, diving instinctively to her right. Then Peeta was jerking her out of the river and pushing her into the woods, the chants of the tributes chasing them.

She took two stumbling steps before she realised her leg was throbbing. She let out an involuntary cry as she palmed the burnt gash in her thigh. Peeta grunted but otherwise kept driving her forward with a hand in the middle of her back. She gritted her teeth and hobbled as fast as she could until Peeta grasped both her shoulders and tipped her roughly down a sudden incline, rolling them both in leaves until they landed at the bottom gasping brokenly. She started to crawl out from under the leaves when Peeta caught her attention by grabbing hold of her ankle and shaking his head minutely.

A second later she heard the heavier footsteps of the Careers as they raced passed in a pack following their trail along the ridge. As their sounds faded into the woods they both quietly rose and headed back towards the river, crossing it and heading towards the meadow. At last, when they were both so exhausted and hungry they couldn't go any further, and as dusk started to fall they found a tree and tiredly ascended.

Katniss flopped back against the large trunk bonelessly. Peeta crouched next to her breathing raggedly. In the dull light Katniss finally dared to look at her wound. It stung horribly and her whole leg throbbed. Peeta winced at it and gently trickled the last of the water from the canteen over it making her flinch. As he set the canteen down Katniss saw his knuckles.

"Peeta!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "Your hands…" She caught a hold of one of them and winced in sympathy at the swollen and red blisters.

"You know what they say," he said blithely, settling next to her and letting her keep a hold of his hand. "Never play with fire."

"You're hopeless," Katniss replied dropping his hand, and resting her head against his shoulder.

She must have drifted off because she awoke with a start to a low beeping noise. Peeta was a soft shadow reaching out in the dark to hook the parachute from its slow descent.

"We got a gift?" She whispered sitting up.

Peeta hummed in affirmation then twisted open the caption to reveal a pot. Katniss reached over and unscrewed the lid. The refreshing scent of herbs wafted towards her.

"Medicine," she whispered in disbelief.

Peeta scooped some onto his fingers and gingerly coated her burnt thigh. She flinched slightly but soon relaxed. She coated his knuckles which left her fingers tingling with numbness.

"At least it's the good stuff," Peeta murmured as they tried to sleep afterwards, legs trying not to hit sore and burnt bits, hipbones digging into each other's stomachs. "None of your comfrey."

"What's wrong with my comfrey?" she teased tiredly.

"I don't think it actually does anything, but you – a large gaping wound, let's try some comfrey; blistering burns – comfrey will clear that right up; a broken arm you say, there's some comfrey around here somewhere…."

She gave him a tired poke. "See if I help you in the future if that's the thanks I get. You're lucky I could stomach it at all. I never wanted to be a healer."

"No…" he tugged gently on her braid and she drifted slowly off to sleep. "But you healed me."


	7. Or to take arms against a sea of trouble

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles_

She woke briefly in the dim light of dawn to Peeta moving quietly. He murmured that he was going to fill the thermos and she drifted back to sleep. She woke again suddenly, she didn't know how much longer later, to the sound of loud voices.

"…see, look there…"

"Oh, look what we have here."

"How's things hanging Twelve?"

"Where's lover-boy?"

She crouched as close as possible to the trunk and while they shot arrows at her they didn't have her skill. Thankfully Marvel's failed attempts at climbing hadn't convinced any of them to give it a go. Instead they seemed determined to wait her out. She worried about Peeta. How long had he been gone?

A movement caught the corner of her eye and she jerked around afraid that the Careers had climbed after all. But instead she met the keen, curious eyes of little dark Rue. She was curled in a branch of another tree and when she had Katniss's attention she gestured to something on her right.

It was a large tracker jacker nest. Katniss was slightly alarmed that she and Peeta would have climbed right by it the previous night. Even now, in the early light of morning, some tracker jackers were beginning to buzz around.

Rue was making sawing motions and miming an explosion. Katniss nodded at her to show she understood and motioned for her to leave. She took the knife Peeta had left and carefully began sawing at the branch that held the nest. Looking up she saw Rue had disappeared.

The branch was difficult to cut as it was thick and wet with dew and the knife was not serrated. Although she tried to be as gentle as possible it still jarred the nest and she was stung by one of the insects. The sting was instantly aching and on fire but she gritted her teeth and continued. Movement below alarmed her, had they seen what she was up to? Panicked she threw her weight on the half cut branch as another tracker jacker stung her and her vision started to blur.

The branch gave with a sound like a bone crack. There was a rushing noise as she fell to a lower branch but managed to catch herself before she hit the ground. She lay there for a time listening to the sounds of screams below. It seemed, somehow distant, she knew the poison from the tracker jackers was affecting her, but she couldn't seem to care.

After a while, or was it a few minutes, she tipped herself from the branch and landed heavily on the ground. The world continued to move but she managed to spy the silver bow and quiver of arrows Glimmer had been carrying. Drunkenly she moved to pick them up but they were hooked on something large. She tugged harder and screamed when the Career girl's swollen face was jerked towards her with the motion.

She fell back clutching the weapon but she wasn't in the Arena anymore. It was the darkness of the mines under Twelve that greeted her and a small bobbing light carried by her father. She tried to reach out to him, to apologise but the next second the light was gone and she was seated in their home in the Seam. Her mother stood at the sink like the night they had told her that dad had died. Prim was curled up beside her. She reached towards them but they seemed to be forever out of her reach the harder she tried. As she leaned forward the wall of the house exploded.

Suddenly Peeta was there, his eyes were large and his hair was a mess.

"Katniss!" his voice came from somewhere far off and reverberated oddly. "Katniss, run!" She couldn't deny the urgency in his far off voice so she began to take a few stumbling steps. Looking around her Peeta was no longer there, had he been there at all?

"Peeta," she whispered and continued wobbling on. She had to find him. There was a reason they had to stay together. She couldn't remember the reason. Had his mother hurt him again? She jarred her knee against something and fell forwards onto her hands in the leaves. Leaves? No, there was a back; a man's back, dotted with freckles, long and supple, now marred by deep lashes. Peeta flinched as she daubed a cut. Her hands were shaking, blood kept seeping and then everything went black.

She woke woozily. One time, out hunting, she had sprung a deer unexpectedly, surprised she had tripped, fallen and hit her head on a tree. Fuzzily she wondered if she had done that again. She was certainly in the woods, she could hear the wind in the trees and feel the leaf litter under her hands.

She raised her hand to feel if there was blood on her head. There was nothing, not even the scar left behind from her last trip in the woods. For a second she was confused. Then she remembered. They had taken her scars in the Capitol; left her unblemished for her death in the Arena. Had it even happed? Had she ever fallen in the woods?

Her hand travelled down her face and she paused to pick a leaf off her cheek. There were more stuck to her arm and she slowly sat up to look at them.

"They help with the poison," said a voice close by. Katniss turned to see Rue standing uncertainly behind a tree. She looked ready to spring away at any moment. It hurt to see that look on her face when she reminded her so much of Prim.

"You did this?" she asked and the little girl nodded.

"That's really clever," she said and Rue beamed with delight. She slowly inched closer.

"We have a lot of them in our district," Rue said.

"That's Eleven, right?" Rue nodded.

"When we harvest there's always a few stung," Rue explained stepping closer.

Katniss spied her backpack now slung across Rue's narrow shoulders. The little girl looked so painfully thin and she had seen enough hungry little girls.

"Have you eaten?" Katniss asked. Rue's eyes darted up with excitement. "There's some birds in there," Katniss nodded towards the backpack.

Rue seemed to have taken the offer of food as immediate friendship and they sat closely to eat.

"How long was I out?" she asked Rue.

"Two days." _Two days_, thought Katniss disconcertingly.

"What about Peeta?" She didn't want to think about how many she may have killed with the tracker jacker nest.

Rue stiffened and squirmed a bit. "Cato came back as you were leaving and Peeta stopped him from chasing you."

Katniss felt her heart physically swoop in her chest. "Is he alive?"

Rue turned dark eyes on her. "There hasn't been a cannon for him. The others are back at the Cornucopia but no one's seen Peeta."

Peeta - alone, without supplies and probably wounded; how on earth was she supposed to find him. Then there was Rue, little Rue who was so much like Prim. She cuddled the little girl against her in the sleeping bag that night, so much roomier without Peeta's solid warmth. She felt Rue's small bones, heard her steady breathing. She could do it – she could even the odds so the little girl could have a chance.

The next day she outlined her plan to little Rue who jumped at the idea of doing something active. She genuinely smiled when Rue showed her how the mockingjays could carry their sound of all clear. She tweaked little Rue's nose and had her laughing as she disappeared into the woods.

The Cornucopia was easy to find – the Gamemakers had designed it as centre stage, after all. While she was slightly worried that the Careers were somewhere else getting up to mischief she was glad for the reprieve. It was also calming to finally have a bow in her hands again. She relished stringing an arrow, drawing it tight and sending it dancing on the breeze. This was something she could do that the Capitol could not take away, that she had learnt despite their edicts. This was, as Peeta would say, spitting in their faces.

The explosion of the Cornucopia was intense and threw her back into the woods. Her hands were shaking again and her right ear was ringing. She put a hand to it and drew away blood. Shaking her head she realised she couldn't hear a thing through it and slowly scrambled into the thickets. It took twice as long as she normally would to find her way back to Rue as she had to stop and turn her head to try and hear if anything was around.

She entered the clearing and stopped dead. The branches for the fire were unlit and Rue was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly screams erupted close by, Rue's cries for help. Startled Katniss was running towards her before she could think. The others would hear her too.

Rue was trapped in a net and Katniss fell to her knees frantically sawing at the ropes until the little girl was free. She fell into Katniss's arms, bobbing her head under Katniss's chin just like Prim did after a nightmare.

Running footsteps had Katniss pushing Rue out of her arms and reaching for the bow as one of the Careers came barrelling towards them. She dodged the flung spear and on reflex strung an arrow and let it fly. The boy, Marvel, jerked to a stop, looked down at the arrow and fell to his knees. Katniss quickly looked away from his face but then dropped her bow in shock at what met her eyes.

Rue, sweet Rue was seated behind her with the spear lodged through her small body.

"No," Katniss whispered frantically, dropping to her knees to flutter her hands around the wound helplessly.

Rue actually smiled at her. "It's okay, Katniss." She said with wise old eyes. "It's okay."

"No, no, no, no, no…" chanted Katniss, tears running down her face. "It's not okay, _it's not okay_!"

Rue reached for her hand and Katniss gathered her all into her arms. Such a small little girl.

"I didn't tell you," Rue said brokenly. "I didn't tell you…cause I wanted you all to myself…but Peeta…Peeta is by the river…"

"It's okay," Katniss said running a hand over Rue's cheeks and catching her tears. "It's okay."

"You can do it, Katniss," Rue said softly. "You can find him, and you can win."

Soon her breathing stopped and Katniss could no longer feel her little heart beating. She closed Rue's eyes and settled her on the ground. The spear that had caused the damage was too much so Katniss removed it with a hefty tug and flung it away from them. Still Rue seemed too small, too broken. She wandered towards the meadow where the flowers were growing and absent-mindedly gathered some. Returning to her body she covered Rue with them so the wound was no longer visible. She sung her a lullaby as she worked, so that it almost seemed that Rue was only sleeping. Finally, when she knew the hover craft had to be close to collect the body she struggled to her feet and gave her the three fingered salute of District Twelve. Wherever Rue was now, it had to be a better place than this.


	8. The more I give to thee

_The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite_

That night Katniss fell asleep alone listening to the mockingjays carry her lullaby to all the corners of the Arena. She woke with a jerk to Seneca Crane's voice.

"…announce a rule change…two victors from the same district…"

"Peeta," she whispered. It was still dark as she climbed from her sleeping bag and decamped. It was barely light when she reached the river. But it took her all day to find Peeta. In fact, Peeta found her, he was so well camouflaged that she thought it was a trick of the Gamemakers when the rocks moved to catch her ankle. She had turned to string an arrow when she realised who it was.

"Peeta!" she dropped to her knees beside him and smudged the mud across his face to find some skin. His eyes were glazed with fever and pain.

"Katniss," he whispered, struggling to sit up.

"What happened? Where does it hurt?" she asked looking him over. It was difficult to tell as he was entirely covered in clay and mud.

"Cut my leg," he said nodding towards it. "Shouldn't stay here, Katniss. The Careers passed by a little while ago."

"Okay," Katniss murmured looking down at him. "Okay, come on, we're going." She pulled on his arm until she could get her weight under his shoulder and, with his help, leveraged him up to his unsteady feet.

They hobbled a little way downriver to a sheltered cove but already she could feel the strain it took on Peeta. She dropped her bow then gently lowered Peeta.

"I've got to see it, Peeta," she said running her hands along his leg. The gash was seeping from his thigh, running a mess of blood and black ooze from the mud. "We've got to get this clean," she told him trying to pull his pant leg up.

"Just take them off," he murmured tiredly, his eyes closing.

"Peeta!" she tapped his face. "You've got to stay awake."

He blinked blearily at her then tried to stand. She hurried to help him then they both splashed into the river. He sat with a thud in the shallows and his hands went to his belt. She bent to help him undress.

"So…keen…" he murmured and tried to send her a leer.

"Shut up, Peeta," she grinned relieved that he had the energy to make jokes. She pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it in the shallows.

"Peeta…" she whispered. His back was smooth, unmarked. She ran her hand along the unblemished plane. She remembered a winter night when she spent hours soothing the welts and lashes left by his mother. She remembered the raised scars that had littered his back, a reminder of his mother's love – and Peeta's strength.

He huffed dryly, his head hanging and did not look at her. "They took them, like they could erase it that easily, as if it never happened." He snorted in disgust and turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "They clearly didn't realise how deep those scars went."

She blinked at him then bustled around to his leg and tried not to think of her mother watching her tend to a naked man. Peeta dropped back into the shallows, letting the water run over his chest and around his hair, cleaning the mud from his skin. The wound was red and deep and she had no thread or needle.

"Burn it," Peeta mumbled.

"Peeta…" she tried to sound as scandalised at the thought, but the option had crossed her mind. Sometimes her mother had cauterised wounds when supplies had been low and situations dire.

"What's one more scar," Peeta breathed, "to remember this by? They'll only take it, like it never happened."

She still hesitated so he barked a terse command. "Just do it."

She nodded shakily and quickly splashed out of the water to make a fire with shaking hands. This was risky in so many ways. The Careers could smell the smoke, the wound could fester and Peeta could go into shock. Her hands felt clammy as she set the knife in the hot coals.

Peeta had pulled himself out of the water, draping his shirt across himself for modesty. She smiled at his efforts.

"Peeta," she handed him a length of wood as he laid back and braced himself. He nodded at her and grimaced through the wood. She bit her lip and blinked her tears away.

Steadying herself, she held his thigh tightly – it was wet and cold – then quickly pressed the hot blade to the wound. Peeta arched like a scalded cat but he didn't scream. It was more like a deep primal moan, his hands scrabbling on the rock, then he went slack as he fainted.

"I'm sorry," she whispered tremulously as she withdrew the blade and deliberately breathed through her mouth to avoid smelling the burning flesh. It looked even worse now, an angry dark red, black and blistering. She fetched the medicine pot from her bag and spread it generously over the burn. Then there was nothing to do but guard him and look for a place to hide out.

By the time he had regained consciousness she had found a cave a little further down the river. She pushed and pulled him upright, then bullied him along the bank to the cave. He was quiet and cold which worried her.

Inside the cave she spread out the sleeping bag and tucked him in, then, regardless of his state of dress, she slipped in beside him, careful with his leg, and held him close, trying to warm his frozen limbs.

She woke with a jerk from a dream of Rue's blood on her hands. Peeta was breathing deeply beside her. She slowly and gently slipped from the sleeping bag to a small pool of water that had gathered in the cave and washed her hands. Her nails were chipped and the beds encrusted with dirt and blood. She scrubbed harder and couldn't stop the sob as it escaped.

Peeta's solid warmth behind her was a sudden comfort and she leaned back into him with another broken sob. He reached around her and clasped her hands with his.

"What happened?"

She brokenly told him everything – the plan to handicap the Careers, Rue's death and her murder of Marvel. "I did it, she's dead and it's my fault."

"No," he brushed her hair from her face to catch her chin and direct her gaze to his. "My survivor," he said, his eyes cataloguing her features. "You did everything you could, you gave her hope and that is better than anything – trust me."

"She's still dead."

"You think she's better off alive, here?"

She looked back at their clasped hands floating in the water. "She was just a kid. She could have been Prim."

He dropped his head to rest on her shoulder. "We're all kids."

"We haven't been kids for years," she pointed out dryly. "But she was. She was too sweet for this, too innocent."

"We were all innocent," he mumbled. "None of us asked for this. We were born and we were chosen. Nothing we did could have changed that."

"Nothing?" she asked thinking of a rainy day outside a bakery where she felt too weak and exhausted to move.

He lifted his head to look at her profile, clearly picking up on her morbid thoughts. "Who would be here instead, if things had been different?"

She turned to look directly at him."If I had starved?"

"If I had died?" He replied, returning her stare.

She reached out to brush his chin, felt the stubble underneath, felt the flutter of a pulse.

"Peeta," she said, suddenly excited, remembering. "We can go home."

"What?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and removed her hand from his face.

"There was a change of rules, two victors from the same district – we can go home, together."

He smiled incredulously. "Together…?"

"Yes," she smiled brightly at him.

"Home…?"

She smothered a giggle and crashed her mouth against his passing him her pain and frustration and tasting hope. Finally she leaned back to breathe. Peeta's breath brushed her hair and his hands framed her face as he leant his forehead against hers.

"My mother's going to kill us."

Katniss laughed, her first true laugh since this whole nightmare began. "Not if mine doesn't kill us first."

Later that night, sharing the sleeping bag with Peeta's arm around her waist and hearing his stomach rumble with hunger she tried to imagine their future. "What will we do when we go home?"

Peeta sounded amused twined with a trace of scepticism when he replied. "Live in Baxter's cottage, plant a garden, buy a few goats, throw a few bottles of white liquor at anyone who bothers us…"

"What?" She turned grinning to look at him. Baxter's cottage was in the Seam, the nearest house to the fence. It had been vacant since Baxter had been caught in a mine explosion and left open to nature.

"You can bring home squirrels shot through the eye and I'll be the perfect housewife."

"And what would I do with a perfect housewife?"

"Forget the world…"

"Forget the world…what about Prim?"

"She can visit, but she'll be married to Rory and too busy to bother with her boring older sister."

Katniss pinched his arm. "You noticed that too, huh?"

"I think the whole district saw that one coming."

"I hope they will be happy," she said wistfully turning away from him.

"They will be," Peeta stated.

"How can they? Forget about the Town and the Seam, one of them will probably be reaped or they'll starve and die in the mine…"

"Well, aren't you cheerful," Peeta said turning her to face him. She traced his jaw with her eyes. He used to have a scar right there, where she had been teaching him to string a bow and the taught line had snapped back across his face.

"They will be, as long as they have each other, they will be happy – in this life…or the next." She kissed his chin and snuggled into his body, closing her eyes and trying to capture some of Peeta's belief.

She sat up suddenly at the sound of beeping. Peeta blinked sleepily at her.

"We got another gift?" She told him, scrambling out of the bag and accidently kicking Peeta's leg. She whispered an apology as he cringed over his injured limb but continued hurriedly out of the cave. Another parachute had settled on the bank and she snatched it up, looking around to make sure no other tributes were close by.

Bringing it inside she twisted it open to the wafting aroma of lamb stew. Her mouth watered instantly.

"What is it?" Peeta mumbled. "Morphling?"

"Better."

"Better? It's not comfrey is it?"

She chuckled settling down near him. "Food."

She dug in instantly surprised that it was still warm. She was worried that Peeta didn't eat much and was soon napping with his head in her lap. She brushed his fringe from his face and settled to watch the entrance, her bow within reach.

"We're going home, Peeta. I promise."


	9. Cry Havoc - and let slip the dogs of war

_Cry Havoc – and let slip the dogs of war_

She was running in her dream and jarred awake so suddenly she felt her heart stutter and her pulse thrum. Instantly she reached for her bow but there was nothing, no sound or movement that alarmed her. Slowly she relaxed and turned to look at Peeta. He was sleeping still, but his face was no longer peaceful.

"Peeta?" she whispered, putting her hands on his face. It was searing to the touch and clammy with sweat.

"Peeta!" she said more firmly in panic, tapping his face and shaking his shoulders.

"…no…not right now…" he mumbled blearily. She pulled back the sleeping bag and found his leg wound oozing a yellowish liquid.

"Peeta, it's infected…Peeta?" His head flopped in her direction but otherwise he gave no sign he had heard her.

"What do I do?" she asked the empty cave.

Crawling outside to get fresh water she collapsed by the entrance of the cave determinedly fighting back tears. She was so tired – tired of worrying, tired of being a nurse, tired of everything.

Crane's voice startled her as he cleared his throat over the Arena. A feast, he announced, where everyone would be given something that they needed. It was surely a trap, but Peeta would die without the medicine and soon.

She immediately gathered her bow and strapped the quiver over her shoulder. She pocketed the knife, as well, then turned to look at Peeta. He lay deep in his delirium, barely moving. She was afraid to lose sight of him in case he stopped breathing when she wasn't looking. But she backed out of the cave and carefully hid the entrance, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she saw him.

Gathering herself, she straightened her back, slowed her breathing and went to hunt for the feast.

It was bleeding into dusk when she returned to the cave. Her hands were still shaking from the confrontation with Clove, Thresh's actions and his sudden mercy. She clutched the bag from the feast in her hand the other blocking some of her vision as it staunched the wound on her head.

Peeta was a still form in the back of the cave. For one horrible moment she thought he wasn't breathing. Jaw quivering she dropped beside him her hands scrabbling on his chest. Breathing brokenly she felt the tiny movement that meant he was still with her. Trying to steady herself she removed the medicine, then with no finesse she jabbed it into his arm and dropped the plunger.

Nothing happened as she watched his face. There was no sudden lightness of pallor, no colour was brought to his cheeks.

"Peeta," she whispered, collapsing forward onto him. "I can't do this without you."

She woke soothingly to rain outside. Peeta was running his hand through her hair. Peeta… She sat up fast almost banging heads with him in her haste. She spun around to look at him fully to make sure that he was really there. He was watching her cautiously, his hands raised in surrender and his eyebrows curved in question.

"You're better…" she breathed, incredulous.

"Well you certainly gave my heart a start when I woke up to find you covered in blood," he said huskily.

"Blood," her hand drifted to her forehead but found only a small scab.

"I used the miracle paste," Peeta offered. "Was there a particular reason for the blood or where you just getting into the decor?"

She shifted back from him at the tone of censure in his voice. "Clove's dead," she said bluntly. "Thresh killed her."

"And how do you know this?"

"You were sick, Peeta, you needed medicine. They offered it so I had to go."

"It was a trap."

"Of course it was a trap, how could it not be? But you needed that medicine Peeta."

"Katniss," Peeta sighed deeply. "I don't want you risking yourself for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Well it's moot now. It worked, you're better and we're down one more tribute. It all turned out well."

Peeta didn't reply and avoided her gaze. She glanced around the cave and sighed. Well, if he was going to sulk he could do it productively.

"We should probably go, we've stayed here too long as it is," she said. A nod was all she received in return. Rolling her eyes again she began packing up their belongings. Peeta worked silently beside her then followed her out of the cave, limping slightly.

She took the lead through the light rain, down river into thicker forest cover. She had an arrow set, but not strung, watching for any prey. She didn't know how long they had been out, but they would need more food, and soon.

Peeta was trailing a little, his limp making him more ungainly. He paused to lean against a tree.

"Go ahead," he murmured.

"What?" she was startled, thinking he wanted her to leave him.

"You need to hunt and I'm slowing you down, no don't…" he interrupted her as she opened her mouth to argue. "I'll scout around here to see what I can find and you circle back to get me."

She nodded hesitantly, wary of his mood but turned to leave. She had been gone a little while, circling a promising thicket when the boom of the cannon sent her jumping in the air.

"Peeta?" she half shouted in panic, regardless of other listening ears. "Peeta!" she screamed running back to where she had last seen him, horrified at what he could have done and terrified that another tribute had found him.

"Katniss!" Peeta burst from a shrub to her left and enfolded her in a bruising hug. "It wasn't you…" he murmured into her hair like a prayer.

She caught his face between her hands and gave him a bruising kiss which he returned with equal fervour.

"Who do you think it was?" she said when they had parted.

A strange looked flitted over Peeta's face. He took her hand and led her back through the forest. "I think I know…"

He stopped abruptly and she peered over his shoulder. The red-headed tribute from Seven was sprawled across the forest floor, her head on Peeta's jacket. He'd gathered some mushrooms and roots which she had clearly been plundering. Crouching to see what she held in her hand Katniss froze. Nightlock – it would have killed her instantly.

"Peeta…?" she turned to him with some of the midnight blue berries in her hand.

He crouched beside her and folded her fingers around the berries. "Just in case," he said quietly.

"But, Peeta, you promised…we're going home, together."

He smiled grimly and dropped a kiss on her cheek, sliding the berries from her hand to his. "Just in case," he repeated, securing them in a pocket of his jacket then slipping it on.

She was about to argue further when a cry of pain reached them on the breeze. They both turned towards it in the gloom. Gloom? It was rapidly darkening, another mechanism of the Gamemakers. Someone screamed again, but this time it was twined with an eerie, echoing howl. It ached in her bones and raised the hair on her arms.

Peeta was tugging on her jacket to get her moving and she turned with him and started jogging through the forest. The howl came again, closer, pooling in her veins so that she found herself sprinting through the forest without any thought.

They weren't alone; another figure was sprinting to their left – Cato. But he was hardly the most danger at the moment, all she could think about was getting as far away from that sound and what caused it as possible.

The boom of the cannon cracked like thunder as they breached the forest into the meadow. The Cornucopia loomed large a hundred feet away. Something large was crashing through the undergrowth not far behind. She spun as Peeta cried out, an arrow notched and let it fly at the huge shape that was lunging at Peeta. It howled and snapped at the arrow imbedded in its side but she had turned and was sprinting after Peeta.

He reached the Cornucopia seconds before her bracing himself against it. She simply ran up his leg and jumped onto the top of the Cornucopia, throwing her bow away before leaning over to haul Peeta up. He latched onto her hands and got an arm over the edge before he was jerked downwards with a scream of pain.

One of the beasts had Peeta's leg in its jaw and it was snarling and growling trying to tug Peeta entirely from the Cornucopia. She tried to reach her bow but couldn't do it without letting go of Peeta. Already she was losing her grip as the beast pulled strongly and Peeta moaned in pain. His arm slipped from the Cornucopia and she saw a flash of silver. The beast yelped and she was able to tug Peeta entirely onto the Cornucopia. They lay there, Peeta draped limply over her, both breathing heavily.

She glanced over the edge and watched the Gamemaker's muttations pace and snarl below.

"What are they?" she gasped raggedly.

Peeta shook his head, bracing himself with an arm to raise himself off her. Suddenly he was pulled away and she followed his questing hand till she was sat facing Cato who had Peeta in a headlock, his arm braced across Peeta's throat. She had seen Cato snap the neck of another tribute with the same ease as breathing. Her hand found her bow and an arrow was notched before she had time to think.

"Na..uh," Cato tutted, smiling down the strung arrow pointed at him. "That's not how this goes. Drop it Twelve or I'll kill lover boy, here."

Her eyes jumped from Cato to Peeta and back again. Peeta was smiling grimly at her again, the knife he had used on the mutts, dripping blood, in his hand.

"Come on Twelve," Cato snapped. "Did you really think you were going to win? Come on! Like they would let that happen. This is my final gl – ahh!"

She moved seconds after Peeta had stabbed Cato's thigh, taking the opening he had made when he turned instinctively towards where he was hurt. The arrow caught Cato through the shoulder and was travelling with enough speed to knock him back a few steps which carried him off the edge of the Cornucopia. He fell with a high-pitched scream but Katniss was only paying attention to Peeta, who Cato had dragged to the edge.

Again she caught his hands and hauled him upwards, helping him as he scrambled away from the salivating beasts. Luckily they seemed to be preoccupied with Cato who they could hear fighting them off and then the tearing of clothes and flesh.

She clutched Peeta's hand tightly, both of them cringing at Cato's fate. She had one arrow left and it was without any thought that she strung it and sent it flying.

The silence was sacramental – even the beasts made no noise. They seemed to be disappearing in the shadows around the Cornucopia. The cannon jolted them both and she turned to press her head against Peeta's solid shoulder.

She felt him wince as he shifted next to her, heard the tearing of fabric and saw him tie a tourniquet around his leg. It was the same one she had cauterised.

She reached over to finish the knot. "Let's get out of here."


	10. For there never was a story of more woe

_For there never was a story of more woe..._

The darkness lifted artificially fast, the sun shining brightly onto the suddenly beautiful meadow. There were no sign of the mutts or the slaughter that had been committed there days before.

Peeta slid down from the Cornucopia, stumbling slightly on landing. Katniss followed closely. She breathed deeply waiting for the end. She clutched Peeta's hand and waited to go home.

"There has been another change of rules; there can be only one winner of the Hunger Games." Crane's voice reverberated through Katniss, meaningless.

"No…" she whispered.

Peeta turned towards her with his half-crooked smile. Damn Peeta with his open optimism and his hidden scepticism. Since she told him in the cave he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"It's all right Katniss," he said, reaching up to stroke her chin. He looked down at his leg, which was now bleeding more heavily than before. "It was always going to be you."

"No," she said fiercely, stopping his hands where they were reaching to undo the tourniquet. "You promised."

"Katniss…" he sounded tired. Like a tired old man scolding a naïve little girl. "You still have Prim and your mother and Gale…you still have a life in Twelve. The odds were never in my favour Katniss. You are everything to me and I'm just happy that you're safe, that you can go home."

"Do you think I will ever leave this place? Do you think I will ever forget Rue? Thresh? How can I live with your blood on my hands? You would damn me to that?" Peeta shook his head.

"Peeta," she said with tears in her eyes. "Do you remember that night in the rain with the bread?"

He nodded softly.

She bit her lip and looked into his blue eyes. "You gave me hope. Hope that I wouldn't starve, that I could survive. You gave me hope of a better place; hope that I could live in a world without being scared every day, without being worried every day. Peeta…" she cradled his face between her hands. "Don't leave me here."

A tear slid down his face. His hands found hers, dragging them away from his face and twining his fingers in hers.

"A place without fear," he said looking up at her under half-lids.

"Where we can be happy," she smiled at him wetly.

He stroked a thumb across her knuckles and gently tugged her across the meadow. She followed quietly as he limped across to a small rise and settled on the grass beside him. From this light the meadow looked deceptively beautiful, a sea of yellows, blues and pinks.

"Maybe we will find it," Peeta said suddenly. His whole leg was drenched a dark red, his face an ashen grey. "Find that place…where we can be happy, at peace."

She raised their twined hands between them and kissed his split and bruised knuckles. "Together."

He dug in his pocket and brought out the blue berries. He smiled dryly and slowly dropped a few into her open hand.

She scanned his face - the blonde hair, blues eyes – memorising the planes and angles. He offered her a small smile. "I love you," she said and to her surprise it wasn't a lie, a confession or an act, it was a declaration of fact.

Peeta's smile widened even if his eyes held sadness. He traced her jaw with his hand, flicked her nose and finally dropped his hand to tug her braid. "Do you remember when we first met?" He asked.

Her nose crinkled as she thought, wondering where he was going with this.

"Mrs Shaft asked if someone would like to sing and your hand shot straight up." Katniss tried not to writhe with embarrassment. "You sang so beautifully that even the birds stopped. But then, you stopped singing…"

She looked away from him across the bright meadow thinking about her family, her father, the greyness that permeated District Twelve. Softly, she began to sing, growing louder and louder as she went.

_"__Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
__…__  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." _

There was silence when she finished. Peeta leant towards her and brushed a kiss along her cheek, she turned her head to catch it on her lips. As they parted they heard the mockingjays start up, softly, repeating her song.

"Meet you at the hanging tree?" Peeta asked quietly his eyes holding her gaze.

"Only if I don't beat you there," she said equally quietly. Then she raised the berries to her lips.

_The End._


End file.
